Fight or Flight
by HlysComment
Summary: Set in Nikki1's AU. Young Peter must work with other young APs when they are taken prisoner by a sinister organization. Will they escape? Will Nathan and the other's rescue them? And how will Peter react to a sudden exposure to other abilities?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a first for me. It's a fanfic fanfic. This story is based in Nikki1's Heroes AU. In her universe, our favorite characters come into their abilities as young children. Also, in that AU, people with abilities are out in the open and have been for decades but a negative movement is taking hold against people with abilities, who are referred to as APs (advanced persons). **

**I enthusiastically encourage everyone to read her stories based in this AU. They are so wonderful they inspired me. You can easily access them from my profile page as they are on my favorites list and she is on my favorite authors list. I really hope she enjoys my take on her AU.**

* * *

"Peter." Claude sighed heavily. "You have to concentrate."

"I _am_ concentrating." Peter replied indignantly.

"Obviously not or, at least, not enough." Claude said irritably and Peter's face fell.

"Do you want to go to school?"

Peter barely reacted to the old carrot and that was part of the problem. The twelve year old nodded glumly but with little hope or expectation.

"Well, I can barely tell from _that_ reaction." Claude noted.

"They'll never let me." Peter said then, his face flushing slightly. "They never let me do anything. I can't go to school. I can't even go out to the park or the museums because we all know the whole freaking world will come to an end if I bump into another AP."

The boy grunted in an exasperated way.

"I'm so tired of being cooped up!" He yelled.

"Well, if you stop complaining and start concentrating, you'll get control of your ability. If you get control of your ability, it'll be safe for you to go to school and all those other places. No one's trying to hurt you Peter. We're trying to keep you safe."

Peter snorted, "Like a veal. I'm tired of this, ALL of this. I'm tired of staying inside and exercises and promises!"

To Claude's surprise tears began to trickle down the boys face. Peter angrily wiped them away.

"Peter…" Claude began, but the boy wouldn't let him speak.

"No!" He shouted. "No more. I'm not doing it anymore." And he stormed out of the office in the direction of his room. As he was walking through the doorway Claude heard him sigh, "It doesn't do any good anyway."

* * *

"You need to listen to me, Angela." Claude argued. "He needs something, some kind of real interaction with children his own age."

Angela was impassive. "He has Claire." She answered.

"Claire is much younger than Peter, he loves her but they have very little in common. It doesn't help that he has to watch her go to school and generally engage with the world in a way that's denied him."

"He has his friends from his old elementary school." Angela continued.

"He barely sees them these days. They have nothing in common anymore their circumstance are so different and his friends are moving on."

"Claude, we all understand this is difficult for Peter but, unfortunately, it's necessary. It will pass. He's almost ready to start school, unless you've changed your assessment of his progress? Are you saying now that you don't think he'll be ready to join the freshman class?"

Claude sighed. "That's six months away, Angela. I really don't think you remember how long six months can seem when you're only twelve years old."

"I'm quite sure that Peter will manage, Claude. He's a Petrelli. Just keep reminding him the end is in sight." Angela said dismissively.

"That's just it. I don't think he believes it's going to happen."

"Claude, you really are being absurd now. What do you mean he doesn't believe it's going to happen? High school isn't a fairy tale, it's not Heaven, it's not even Hell. Of course, it's going to happen."

"We've made promises about him going back to school before. And we've broken all of them. I don't think he trusts us anymore."

Finally, Claude's words seemed to make an impact. Angela considered what her sons tutor had said for a long moment.

"I suppose you're right. We haven't exactly proven ourselves worthy of his trust."

Angela stood and offered her hand to Claude. It was a dismissal but since she seemed to have taken his advice under serious consideration, Claude accepted her imperiousness.

Shaking the proffered hand he asked, "What do you plan to do?"

Angela answered as though the solution were obvious.

"I'm going to explain the situation to my son and hope that I can regain his trust." She said simply.

Claude resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Good luck with that."

"And what," Angela said, "is that meant to imply Claude Raines?"

Claude stood in the doorway for a moment and then turned back to face her.

"Just that, I thought I'd live out my days without ever meeting another person that could match your stubbornness, Angela Petrelli. Then I met Peter. So," he shrugged. "I meant what I said. Good Luck."

And with a last almost sneering grin, he left the room.

Angela Petrelli's eyes narrowed marginally as she retook her seat.

"Insufferable man."

* * *

Angela walked slowly up the stairs. Claude's talk had disturbed her, mainly because she realized Peter had no reason to trust her. They had repeatedly provided timelines and made promises and then lied. She knew it had all been for the best of reasons but that didn't change the fact that she had lied to her son, her Peter.

When she had become pregnant with Peter, she had felt it was a second chance. She loved Nathan but he was in so many way's his father's son. She had hoped that her second child would be a second chance. She had even been secretly pleased that Arthur had chosen to keep a certain distance between himself and Peter. She now realized that she had let her selfish desire to keep Peter close color her decisions about his schooling as well.

She loved him so much. She wanted to protect him. She wanted to keep him close but by lying to him, she had betrayed his trust and was driving him away.

Angela had climbed the stairs and walked the long hall. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before knocking on Peter's door.

There was no answer.

"Peter, it's your Mother. Open the door."

Still there was no answer. Angela sighed. She despised sulking. It was useless, a pointless waste of time.

"Peter, open the door. Do not be a child. Open this door."

Peter did not answer.

Angela sighed again and then opened the door saying, "Peter Petrelli, I understand you are upset but I absolutely refuse to indulge such…"

The words died on her lips. Peter's room was empty. Angela's heart stuttered in her chest as she noticed a broken lamp…and the broken window.

* * *

Peter felt himself coming awake but it was strangely difficult. He wanted to move but couldn't. He wanted to open his eyes but that didn't seem to work either. He felt strange vibrations and realized that he was in some kind of vehicle.

He was afraid. Something was very wrong and he couldn't figure it out. He just couldn't think straight. Then he heard voices and just tried to concentrate on what they were saying.

"How many do we have so far?" The voice had a bit of a gravely sound to it. Not much, though.

"Including this one?" That one sounded cleaner, maybe younger.

"Yeah." Said gravel voice.

"Um, with the Petrelli kid we've got eleven. Once they get that telekinetic, uh, Davis, we'll have an even dozen." Said the younger one.

"Why the chain?" Said gravel voice.

"Oh, he can fly."

"Really? Huh. That's cool."

"Not if he flies his little butt home." The younger one chimed.

"No, I don't think the boss would be too happy about that. What's he want all these AP kids for, anyway?"

"You shouldn't ask." Said the younger voice and then, after a pause. "The boss doesn't like people nosing around in his business."

"Huh. Thanks for the heads up."

There was no answer.

"Seems wrong. A kid in chains." Said gravel voice after a long pause.

"That's just your modern sensibility."

"What?"

The younger voice explained. "Human trafficking was a natural part of how the world worked for millennia. It's only been the past few centuries that it's fallen out of fashion. People have developed a superior view of humanity as a whole, when really we're just animals."

"Animals?"

"We're nothing special."

"So, these kids are slaves?" Gravel voice didn't seem to like that idea and Peter definitely agreed with him.

The younger voice didn't answer at first.

"It's more complicated than that." Peter heard him sigh then say, "You religious?"

"Not really." Gravel voice answered.

"But you went to church growing up?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, it's like the story of Daniel."

"Daniel and the Lions?"

The younger voice snorted. "Before the lions. Daniel was a talented young man. His country was taken over by Babylon and they took him and other talented young men back to Babylon. They weren't slaves so much as students. They were taken young so they could be trained to serve the Empire."

"So, the boss is taking these kids to be students?"

"That's pretty much my understanding, yeah."

"What's he going to teach them? I mean, what empire are they going to serve?"

"You really don't like living, do you?"

"Huh?"

"That's the boss' business. Leave it that way. If you can't, at least don't ask about it around me."

Peter felt someone approaching him and tried his best to remain still, though his entire body screamed at him to try to fly or turn invisible. He knew he couldn't get away if he was chained and it seemed the men didn't know about his other abilities. He heard Nathan's voice in his head, "When you are weak, let your enemy think you strong. When you are strong, let your enemy think you weak." Just hearing the echo of Nathan in his head made him feel stronger, safer.

He managed to keep from flinching as a hand reached out and stroked his face.

"Sorry, kid."

Peter fought with all his hard earned strength against the tears…and won.

_Nathan, please come save me._

**To be continued... **

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Nathan unceremoniously dropped his bags immediately upon entering the foyer of his family home. "Ma!" He called feeling suddenly very young and unsure of himself.

"For heaven's sake, Nathan." His mother said sternly as she entered the foyer. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain from calling to me like a lost Labrador."

Despite her harsh words, Nathan saw the dark circles under her red eyes and impulsively embraced her in a tight hug. Apparently, being around Heidi and her openly affectionate family was having an impact on him. His mother remained tense in his embrace for a few moments but finally relented.

"Nathan," She said desperately into his shoulder. "Please, I can't…I can't start crying again. I don't think I'll be able to stop."

Nathan pulled back, gripping her by her shoulders instead.

"I'm going to find him, Ma. If it's the last thing I do. I swear, I will bring him back home to you."

Angela Petrelli's eyes filled and she nodded her head in a brisk fashion. Then she cleared her throat, closed her eyes and Nathan could actually see the steel mask slip back into place.

"Well," She said. "Pick up those bags and get them sorted in your room. Then come down to the front sitting room and I'll fill you in on what we know."

She turned and left him to obey her orders but as she exited the room he heard her sigh.

"Which isn't much."

--

"So, you're telling me AP kids have been disappearing all over the country and you've done nothing about it?" Nathan was barely holding on to his temper.

"We have been pursuing the investigation, sir. However, the culprits leave very little in the way of evidence." The representative agent from the FBI said defensively.

"It never occurred to you people to warn families with AP children?" Nathan asked angrily.

"We didn't want to start a panic. With the political situation as it is, the last thing we needed was to aggravate the AP community." The young woman said in what she must have assumed was a placating fashion.

"Aggravate? You make us sound like circus bears." Nathan growled.

"Nathan," His mother's voice was like folded steel. "This is not a productive conversational thread. Let us refrain from political vagaries and remain focused on the only thing that matters at this time, Peter."

She turned her attention from Nathan to the young agent, who flinched appreciably.

"Do you have any information whatsoever on who took my son or why?"

"I have nothing I can share with you at this time, Ma'am." The agent said firmly.

"Meaning you have information but you are not authorized to share it with me." Angela proclaimed.

"I didn't say that." The agent retorted defiantly.

"Yes, you did, dear. You're just not intelligent enough to realize it."

The young woman's mouth opened, most likely to sputter an indignant response but Angela Petrelli was already on her way to the door.

"You may leave, Agent Dunham." She said with an abrupt gesture. "And please inform your superiors that I do not appreciate being patronized. If they think refusing to communicate with the AP families will deter us, they are sadly mistaken. I will find my son. If I have to open the gates of Hell and bring down the prince of darkness himself to do so, I will find my son."

She opened the front door of the house imperiously.

"Good Day, Agent." And the farewell was a command.

The young agent was flushed with embarrassment and anger but she grabbed her bag and beat a hasty retreat out the door.

"Nathan, you have a number of AP friends and contacts, yes?"

"Yeah, Ma. I do." Nathan replied.

"Well, so do I." Angela said fiercely. "I will take the study, you take the front office. I want you to call everyone you can think of and see what's been heard, what's been said, what's been thought or even day dreamed. We'll find out who these other families are and do our own investigation."

She walked out of the room muttering, "Aggravate the AP community indeed. They'll soon learn the meaning of the word."

Nathan smiled, for not the first time in his life grateful for his mother's fierce devotion.


	3. Grim Reality

When Peter woke up the second time, it was from a much more natural sleep. He opened his eyes before he had time to consider and shut them almost immediately. He could felt a manacle encircling his ankle and knew he was still being held prisoner.

He listened for the two voices; the gravelly older man and the scary younger one. But what he heard was crying.

Peter cracked an eye open experimentally and looked around.

He was lying on a bed in a long row of beds. There seemed to be several children but no adults in the room and no one seemed to be paying any attention to him.

Peter opened both eyes and turned his head to get a proper look at the room. The bed next to his was occupied by a boy about Peter's age with fair skin, freckles and straight red hair. He was fidgeting with some very strange looking plastic gloves.

In the bed next to him, there was a skinny boy with a very tan complexion, dark eyes and curly black hair. Actually, he looked about as different from the red headed boy as a person could. He didn't have any gloves or chains but seemed rooted to the bed.

The next bed was empty.

The next bed had a little girl in it. Well, she wasn't much younger than Peter. She had very, very blond hair that looked like it had been pulled taunt in almost all directions. There was a chain almost identical to Peter's on her ankle as well.

The last bed in the row was near the door and in it there was a pale, slightly pudgy boy with glasses and brown hair.

On the other side of the room were more beds.

The bed nearest the door was occupied by a girl with tan skin, though not quite as tan as the dark, curly haired boys. Her eyes were bright green, so bright Peter could see them from across the room and she had wavy brown hair pulled back from her face.

The next two beds were empty but in the third bed from here there were three girls who looked exactly alike. They had to be triplets and all had fair skin, bright blue eyes and long straight blond hair. One of these girls was the person Peter had heard crying. She was wearing chains too but there were more of them and they seemed much thicker and heavier than Peters.

The other two girls seemed to be petting and comforting her as best they could. One of them had on strange gloves, similar to the ones the red head was wearing; only they seemed to be made of some kind of metal, not plastic.

There were only two beds left. One of them was occupied by another girl. She had dark skin, eyes and hair. Peter thought she might be Hispanic.

The last bed, the one directly opposite Peter had another boy in it. He was thin and had several scrapes and bruises. His hair was blond and cut in a ragged crew cut. He seemed to be playing with a lighter.

It suddenly occurred to Peter that they were all dressed in the same outfits. For some reason that was more disturbing to him than the chain and the strange room. The idea that someone had manipulated his body into the strange clothes while he was unconscious and helpless made a shiver run down his spine.

"Hey!"

Peter turned back toward the red head who was now staring at him.

"Hey," He said again. "Hey, guys. The new kids awake."

The other children in the room turned toward Peter. Several of the unrestrained kids got off of their beds and walked closer.

Peter suddenly felt like an animal on display at the zoo. He turned his head to hide a blush.

"Don't be scared." One of the triplets said and Peter sat up indignantly.

"I'm NOT scared." He said. "I'm not the one who was crying."

The triplet without chains or gloves glared at Peter as the girl with the chains started crying again.

Peter felt awful.

"I'm sorry!" He said quickly. "I'm really sorry. I'd be crying too if I had that many chains on me."

He tried to smile encouragingly at the little girl and was rewarded by a feeble smile.

"So, who are you?" Said the boy with the dark curls.

"Peter. Peter Petrelli. Who are you?"

The red head held out a gloved hand. "I'm George Harris."

Peter shook the gloved hand but asked. "Why are you wearing those gloves?"

George shrugged. "It keeps me from using my ability. I can corrode metal or reverse the corrosion process. Basically, I control metal fatigue."

"Metal fatigue?" Peter asked.

"It's complicated. I've been able to do it for a few years now. It means," and he grunted in a frustrated fashion, "If these darn gloves weren't on, I could make that chain on your leg crumble away."

He looked at the door. "I could rust out the lock on the door. I could get us out of here if I could just get these stupid darn gloves off."

The boys voice had grown more emotional and frustrated the longer he spoke and he now looked close to tears.

"It's okay, George. It's not your fault." Said the dark Hispanic looking girl before turning to Peter. "Why do _you_ have a chain?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, I can fly." Peter said.

Several eyes grew big. "Really?" Said the girl with the bright green eyes.

Peter allowed himself to feel a little smug and almost started to talk about his other abilities but stopped short. It wasn't that he didn't trust the other children, but something told him that someone might be listening in on their conversations.

"Are you all APs?" Peter asked curiously.

"Yeah, let's just get the introductions out of the way…again." The girl with the blond hair and chain said loudly from her bed. "I'm Daphne. I'm a speedster."

The triplets went then.

"I'm Niki. I'm really strong."

"I'm Tracy. I can freeze things. Anything." Then she held up the gloves. "When I'm not wearing these things."

"I'm Jessica. I do astral projection. It means I can leave my body and go other places but I can't do anything but look around. People can't hear or see me. I'm like a spirit."

"That's cool." Peter said appreciatively but the girl only glared. Apparently, she hadn't yet forgiven Peter for his unfortunate remark earlier.

"I am really sorry about what I said." Peter pleaded.

She rolled her eyes, but she stopped glaring at him.

"I'm Maya. I…" The Hispanic girls face was pale and she barely whispered the last part. "I kill people."

"What?" Peter said quickly. "What do you mean?"

Maya had wrapped her arms around her torso as though she could shrink into herself.

"I can…my eyes get… and then." She shrugged frowning. "I can make people sick. I'm like poison."

The scruffy looking blond kid said quickly. "Hey, most APs can kill people if they wanted to. It's no big deal."

Peter felt an immediate affinity for the boy who was trying so hard to make Maya feel better.

"Who are you?" He asked curiously.

"I'm Flint." He had a funny accent. "I'm a firestarter." He said it proudly and snapped his fingers.

Peter's eyes grew big as the small blue flame appeared on Flint's thumb. He realized that the boy hadn't been playing with a lighter earlier, just the flame.

"Okay," Peter said appreciatively. "_That's_ cool."

Flint smiled but then frowned. "I'm glad somebody thinks so." He muttered.

"What do you mean?" Peter said.

Flint sighed. "Let's just say foster parents aren't interested in keeping a kid who they think can burn the house down."

Flint looked down and away, anywhere but at the other's faces.

Maya reached out and took his hand. "It's okay, Flint. Please don't be sad."

Flint smiled and patted her hand protectively. "I'm okay, Maya. Don't worry about me. I'm pretty good at taking care of myself."

Maya smiled.

"This is touching, really." Said Daphne from her bed. "I'm getting all misty eyed but can we move on, please?"

"Um, okay, I'll go next. I'm Deepak. I'm a telepath."

Peter thought of his secret ability and inadvertently raised his hands to his head as though to protect his thoughts from intrusion.

"See!" Deepak cried. "That's so unfair!"

Peter pulled his hands down a little sheepishly.

"Flint over there can burn you to a crisp and Maya can make you drop dead just by looking at you but you don't assume they're going to use their power against you. You tell someone you're a telepath though and they get all paranoid."

The boy was obviously very offended and Peter was upset that he'd managed to hurt someone else's feelings.

"I'm really sorry, Deepak." Peter said desperately. "I don't really think you'd go peeking in my mind. Honest, I trust you."

"Oh, don't wet yourself, new guy." Daphne called out. "He'll get over it."

Deepak glared over his shoulder at the speedster who formed her lips into and exaggerated. "Ooooh." And mimed shaking.

Then she winked at him and the glare slipped away in a fit of giggles.

"Aw, shut up, Daphne." He said mollified and Peter sighed with relief.

The next few introductions went without incident. The girl with the green eyes introduced herself as Hannah. Hannah could communicate through computers and sort of read files and secret things there. She said that she'd tried to contact the outside world but none of the computers were connected to anything outside the complex.

The pale boy glasses said his name was Avery. That got a few chuckles. Avery said his ability was vaporizing water.

"Really?" Peter said curiously. "You just look at water and it boils?"

"No." Avery shook his head. "I concentrate and it turns to vapor, to steam, instantly. It doesn't even boil first it just goes poof."

And he blew his cheeks out in a dramatic expulsion of air.

Most of the children laughed, including Peter. It felt good. Peter looked over at Daphne who seemed a bit out of place.

"Hey, do you think we could push the beds around? I mean, move the ones with us chained to them so that they're next to each other? That way we'd all be able to gather around and no one would feel left out."

Daphne pretended disinterest but Peter could see she was pleased with the idea. She seemed lonely but almost as though she preferred being lonely to being rejected.

Peter could almost feel her fear inside himself. That she wanted to be liked but was afraid of being hurt and so preferred to be hostile. That way if she were rejected, at least there would be a good reason.

For the next few minutes, the kids made themselves busy shifting the beds around and soon Daphne's bed was next to Peter's .

Peter then had a sudden realization and blushed. "Um, Daphne?"

"What fly boy?"

"Um, how do you?" He stalled. "I mean, when you need to…"

Peter's face felt like it was actually on fire now. Daphne's lips suddenly formed into a silent, "Oh." And she started laughing.

Peter hadn't thought his blush could deepen, but it did.

"It's not funny." He said indignantly.

Daphne chortled, "Yeah, yeah it is."

Peter crossed his arms and thought furious thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I really am." Daphne calmed at last. "Here, you press this. All the beds have them."

Daphne pointed out a small button on the headboard that Peter had yet to notice.

Peter started to reach for the button but was startled into jerking back as Daphne yelled, "Peter's pushing the potty button!" Very loudly.

"Daphne!" Peter admonished in an embarrassed whisper.

"Hey," She said defensively. "You might not be the only one who needs to go and, besides, people like a little heads up if the bad guys are making a visit."

Peter glanced around the room and noticed the other children were returning to their beds and taking up defensive postures.

"Well," Daphne said exasperated. "You gotta go or don't you?"

Peter sighed and swallowing down sudden humiliation, pressed the button.

A man dressed in white scrubs entered the room within minutes and approached Peter's bed. Peter found himself inadvertently inching away from the man. But all the man did was unlock the chain from the bed post and gesture for Peter to follow.

He took Peter to a small restroom and, still holding the chain, let Peter stand in a stall and relieve himself. After Peter had washed his hands, he led Peter back to the room and his bed.

Peter felt humiliated. Like he was a dog being taken out for a walk.

After the man had locked him to the bed post and left the room, Peter found himself burying his face in his pillow to hide hot tears of shame.

The room was very still for a long time. Then Peter felt a hand on his shoulder.

He turned his head and saw Daphne staring down at him.

"It's okay, Peter. It's okay to cry."

Peter wiped his face angrily. "I don't wanna cry. I wanna go home."

* * *

**Okay, the next chapter contains quite a bit of Peter whumpage. These are really bad guys trying to break these kids down into pawns. So, if you can't stand see wee Pete hurt, you probably want to stop reading now. Fair warning.**


	4. School Starts

**Once again want to warn everyone: whump ahead. Also, there is a death but it's no one of the show characters.**

* * *

The next morning they were surprised to find the final bed had been filled in their sleep.

"I can't believe I didn't wake up." Peter said, looking at the boy as though he had appeared out of thin air. "I'm usually a really light sleeper."

"It's the food." Flint said then. "I think they put something in our dinner. We all sleep pretty heavily and we all tend to wake up at the same time."

The new boy was now in the bed that they had placed where Daphne's had been. He was still sleeping but wasn't chained and had no special garments like Tracy or George's gloves.

The rest of the children went about their business of talking and theorizing where they were and why they were there. Then Avery announced the new kid was waking up.

Peter suddenly felt his confinement more than ever as the rest of the kids walked over to greet the new boy while he and Daphne had to remain on their beds.

The new boy introduced himself as Isaac and he said his ability was to paint the future.

"Really?" Peter asked loudly. "My parents talked about someone who could do that a long time ago. They said it's super rare. Almost as rare as Adam Monroe's ability and, I mean, as far as we know, he's the only one to have it."

Isaac sighed. "Yeah, my parents say we have to be really careful because everyone wants me to tell them what their future is."

He looked pointedly at the chains on Peter's and Daphne's legs.

"They didn't want me to end up in a place like this."

The children were quiet but then erupted into sporadic shrills of fear as the door opened unexpectedly.

They all backed toward the far corner where Peter and Daphne were chained to their beds.

An old man, probably at _least_ forty, walked into the room. He had a very high forehead caused by slight balding. He was tall, about as tall as Nathan and he looked thin but still had a bulging belly that hung over his trouser belt.

"Hello, children." He called in a friendly, easy voice that made Peter's little hairs stand up.

"You may call me, Mr. Phillips. I have brought you here to learn. It is very important that you do as you are told. Now, my friends here are going to bring you to your new training rooms, your new school. We'll have a little talk and then, school will begin."

* * *

"Now, are we all settled?" Mr. Phillips looked out over the room that, indeed, resembled a classroom with no windows. "Good."

"I know that you are all probably frightened and perhaps angry but I am going to explain some things to you that I hope, in time, will help you understand why this is necessary."

Mr. Phillips sat down in a chair facing his "class".

"Most children your age I don't suppose bother themselves much with the current incarnation of AP registration that is being debated in this country's capitol. But I'm willing to bet that most if not all of you are familiar with that piece of legislation. Why? Because it affects you directly. It affects your families."

Peter glanced around the room and saw that Mr. Phillips had everyone's attention.

"The problem is we have something most people do not have. History has shown us that when a minority has something the majority doesn't, the majority will seek to control that minority. If that fails, they will seek to destroy the minority."

Mr. Phillips clapped his hands together loudly, making Peter and several others flinch.

"Children we are that minority. The humans of this world will seek to control us and when that fails, as it inevitably will, they will seek our destruction. You, my children, have been chosen for your rare gifts. You will be the godsends who will emerge trained and prepared to lead your AP brothers and sisters in the fight for survival that is coming all too quickly."

Peter couldn't help himself.

"You said humans."

Mr. Phillips turned his bright eyes on Peter. "Yes, Petrelli, humans."

"But" Peter said, licking his lips. "_We're_ human."

Mr. Phillips just smiled. "No, Petrelli, we are not human. We are better."

Peter glanced nervously at the other children for their reactions. They all seemed as uncomfortable with the concept as he did.

"Do you think its right, Petrelli, that they want to brand us with a number?"

"No." Peter replied honestly.

"No, sir." Mr. Phillips corrected.

"No, sir." Peter parroted back.

"Do you think its right, Petrelli, that you are practically a prisoner in your own home?"

Peter felt his mouth open in shock. How did he know about that? Did he know more? Did he know the truth about Peter's ability?

Mr. Phillips smiled. "Yes, I know about the incident at your school. I know that you were threatened with expulsion and your parents have sense felt the need to protect you from a hostile world."

Peter almost laughed with relief, which came out as a choking sound. Mr. Phillips seemed to think he was trying not to cry. Apparently, so did some of his new classmates.

"How does it feel to have your parents act as your jailers?"

Now Peter was angry. The man was twisting everything.

"They aren't!" He argued.

"Really?" Mr. Phillips smiled that oily smile and Peter wanted to slap the older man.

"Then you can go out with your friends?"

Peter said nothing.

"Peter? You _can_ go out with your friends, right? Oh wait, you don't have any friends because apparently no school will take a freak like you. Because your parents won't even let you go to the park with your niece who was just oh so lucky enough to be born without an ability."

Peter almost sighed, immensely relieved that this man, like most others was ignorant of Claire's incredible ability.

"How does it feel, Peter? Watching Claire play with her friends? Go to school? Be a human child?"

"Shut UP!" Peter screamed at last. "You're twisting everything! It's not like that. They're just trying to protect me!" Peter had stood as he spoke and glanced around to see the pained looks on the other children's faces. He knew they were feeling sorry for him. "It's not…It's not true." He said desperately, trying to make them see. "I'm not a prisoner. They love me. They're protecting me."

When he looked back at Mr. Phillips, the man was smiling again.

"I haven't brought you here to teach you to be human. I have brought you here to teach you to be better. No, I'm going to teach you to be the _best_."

Then he stood up abruptly. "No time like the present. This, children, is Mrs. Coleman." And he gestured to a grim and scarred woman with strange eyes. One was a bright blue, the other a dark brown.

"Mrs. Coleman is going to be in charge of your training. And, Petrelli?"

Peter looked up, suddenly apprehensive.

"We'll start with you."

* * *

Coleman led the group to a strange room. It was very large and there was a chamber in the middle with translucent walls.

"This" Coleman almost shouted, "Is the training chamber. We call it the crucible. For some of you, the crucible is not a necessary part of your training. For others," And she gave Peter a meaningful stare. "It is."

She gestured to the large chamber. "The crucible is designed to force you to stretch yourselves, to challenge you. We'll start with a demonstration. Petrelli!"

She barked Peter's last name like a drill sergeant.

"What?" Peter asked.

Coleman didn't hesitate. She slapped Peter sharply across the face.

"You will address me as Mama. You will answer all yes or no questions with a simple yes Mama or no Mama and you had better hope like hell I like the answer, do you understand?"

The stinging slap had immediately brought tears to Peter's eyes and he tried to blink them away without anyone noticing. He wanted very much to rub away the stinging but didn't want to give Coleman the satisfaction. Fortunately, Coleman couldn't know that the flaring nerves repaired themselves almost instantly.

Still it was a shock. No one, much less an adult, had ever struck Peter before.

"Yes, Mama." Peter said as a single tear rolled down his face.

"You're not boohooing. That's a good thing. There is no time for crying here boys and girls."

The woman's voice had boomed louder and she turned to face the rest of the class, many of whom were indeed crying in sympathy for Peter.

"You're parents are not here. I am your Mama now. And your Mama doesn't love you. Your Mama doesn't kiss it better. Your Mama wants only one thing; your absolute best, every single time."

She took a short walk in front of the children still shouting.

"If you dare to fail me; to come to me with anything other than your very best I will beat that failure out of you, do you understand?"

There were several barely audible responses and Colemen turned and slapped Peter again.

"I said, do you understand?"

This time there was a chorus of, Yes Mama from the group.

"Good. You be good for your Mama and I'll be good to you."

She turned her attention back to Peter and he almost flinched...almost.

"Petrelli." She yelled.

"Yes, Mama." Peter said loudly, not wanting to chance another slap. Mama, uh, Coleman seemed pleased. She took the chain off of his ankle and pointed to the chamber.

"Get in the crucible."

Peter obeyed instantly.

Once inside he noticed that the walls actually appeared to be one way mirrors. For though he'd been able to see into the chamber from the outside, once inside all he could see was his reflection.

"Petrelli, this floor is capable of holding a charge. When I leave the crucible and shut the door, the floor will be electrified. If you are still standing on this floor at that time, you will receive a painful shock and will continue to receive that painful shock until you are no longer standing on that floor. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mama."

"I certainly hope so, Son."

Peter felt a flare of anger at the term.

"I'm not your son." He said angrily.

Coleman turned around and, smiling, slammed the door before Peter could float above the floor.

The electric charge coursed through his body lighting up his nerve endings like a Christmas tree and he screamed. Then he was floating above the floor and the pain was gone.

Peter cried for a while as tremors shook him. He couldn't help it. He'd never felt any pain like that before. Not even when he'd fallen while doing the holiday decorations, and that time he'd actually died.

Peter floated for a long time. He got bored and started doing lazy loops and what maneuvers he could in rather limited space. Then he started to get tired. He wondered how long he'd been in the chamber or how much longer he would have to stay.

He decided to conserve his energy and stayed still, only hovering inches above the charged floor.

It seemed like hours had passed and they still hadn't opened the door. His throat grew dry and his saliva was turning into thick goo in his throat, choking him. At the same time, it was like all the moisture that should have been in his throat was pouring off his face.

He was so tired. He felt himself slipping but, remembering the pain, he forced himself to stay off the ground. He grew desperate and though it rankled deeply he called out, "Mama?"

There was no answer.

"Mama, please? I can't…Mama _please!"_ Peter was concentrating with all his might. He started crying in fear. He didn't want to drop to the floor but he was exhausted. He knew he would give out any second.

Then he did. He lost control and fell the few inches to the floor. The pain shot through him and seemed to give him an extra boost of energy for after a few torturous seconds he was able to pull himself back off the floor.

He held on again desperately for a few more minutes that seemed years, crying and panicking and then lost control again.

He screamed in anticipation of the pain before he even landed and, though he exerted every fiber of his being into the effort of flying up off the floor of pain he couldn't pull himself back. Finally, he escaped into the bliss of unconsciousness.

* * *

Days passed into weeks adn each one seemed to drum more and more out of the children. The incident with Peter was just the beginning. They had ways of controlling everyone's power, even Flints. Mama put them all through their paces ruthlessly each day. Presenting almost impossible tasks and feats and offering harsh punishments for their almost inevitable failure.

The crucible had a modification for Daphne as well, for example. It forced her to run in circles at maximum speed, delivering the same painful shock Peter experienced if she ever were too slow. George was relieved of his gloves and instructed to corrode various metals of different qualities and quantities. If he failed to corrode the titanium or the huge pile of steel beams, Mama would beat him.

No one hesitated to call Coleman Mama anymore. It was second nature.

Another thing that had become second nature was treating each other and trusting each other like family.

That familial bond was severely tested when, three weeks into their captivity, Mama brought a small mouse to Avery's training session.

"Avery!" She shouted.

"Yes, Mama." Avery called back.

"This is your assignment." She said and pointed to the mouse.

Avery just stared at the little animal, confused.

"I don't understand, Mama." He said at last and held himself ready to accept a blow.

"Animals, like humans are in large part water. I want you to vaporize the water in this animal."

Avery just stared, horrified. Then Mama slapped him.

"Do your assignment!" She yelled.

Avery looked down hopelessly but he yelled back, "No, Mama."

The muscles in Mama's jaw clenched making the odd scar on her face jump grotesquely.

"That" she said knocking him to the floor.

"…is not.." and she struck him with her cane.

"…the correct…" _smack_

"…answer!" The cane came down a final time. Avery was curled in on himself crying.

"Do as Mama tells you, Avery." Mama screamed.

Avery's answer was muffled by miserable sobs but still defiant.

"No, Mama."

Mama raised her cane again…and the mouse, without a sound, seemed to instantly dissolve into a heap of red mist, dried out bones and skin.

The cane paused and then was brought back to her side.

Avery was looking at what was left of the mouse in horror.

"Good job, son." Mama said and announced that was the final assignment of the day.

Niki and Hannah walked over to help Avery with the walk back to their dormitory cell.

"I didn't do it." Avery wheezed. "I _know_ I didn't do it."

No one spoke. No one noticed Peter's ashen face or the tears streaming down it either.

As the last one to leave the room, Peter looked back at the mouses remains and seemed to make a decision.

It was time to escape.

* * *

Peter sat very still on his bed when they returned from the horrifying session. He seemed very tense but when he relaxed he stood up and walked across the room to Avery's bed.

"Avery." He called softly.

Avery had buried his head in his pillow. "Go away." Was the muffled reply.

"Avery, I have to tell you something." Peter said desperately. "You didn't kill the mouse, Avery."

Peter heard crying. "Yes, I did. It's the only way. I, I didn't mean to. I don't know how it happened."

Peter looked at his feet.

"You didn't do it, Avery. I did." He said sorrowfully.

Avery now sat up on his bed and seemed more angry than sad. "Peter, that's ridiculous you couldn't possibly have…"

Avery stopped as something finally occurred to him.

"How are you? How did you walk away from your bed?" He asked slowly.

It seemed that some of the other children had finally noticed Peter's unexpected mobility.

"I used George's ability to rust off my chain; just like I used your ability earlier today on the mouse. I'm sorry but I had to. I couldn't let Mama keep beating you. I…I _couldn't_. I'm sorry." And suddenly Peter was crying and the others were gathering around.

"Hey," Daphne called. "What gives? What's going on?"

Peter wiped his face and stood up on Avery's bed.

"Guys, I've got to tell you something. Um, maybe I should just show you."

Everyone looked at each other with curious and confused expressions.

Peter held out his hand and they all jumped back as it erupted into Flint's signature blue flame.

Then, before anyone could really react to that, Peter moved with Daphne's speed to her bed and reaching out, caused the metal of her manacle to rust away.

"Peter." Daphne gasped. "How did you? What did you do?"

Everyone had followed Peter to Daphne's bed and were waiting for the answer to her question.

"I lied about my ability. Flying was just the first thing I could do. If I'm around another AP, I can do what they do. I can do what all of you can do." He said.

They just stared at him in blank shock.

"Don't you see?" Peter said as he reached out and rusted the manacles off of Niki's hands.

"We can get out of here!"


	5. The Escape

"Okay, Jessica, use your astral projection and see what's on the other side of the door."

Peter said.

"But, Peter, aren't they listening? Don't they already know what we're doing?"

Hannah smiled. "Nope, Peter's messing with the feed. He's playing a loop."

Peter grinned. "Yeah, um, I was just about to ask you to take over that for me."

"Got it."

"Okay, when Jessica says the coast is clear, I'll break through the lock."

Peter frowned.

"I'd like to go to class to get the gloves off of George, too but we don't have the time."

Peter had been able to use George's ability to rust off the strange metal gloves they'd placed on Tracy but hadn't been able to do anything about George's plastic gloves.

"No big deal, Peter." George said. "I'm sure someone will be able to get them off when we get home."

The word "home" seemed to settle on the frightened children like a warm blanket and Peter unexpectedly found himself blinking back tears.

"Yeah." He said gruffly, trying to appear strong and in charge for the other kids.

His head was killing him and he was finding it hard to breathe sometimes.

Maya reached out to him. "Peter, are you okay?" She said in a worried voice.

Peter nodded.

"Are you sure, man?" Flint drawled. "Cuz you look like, really sickly."

Isaac reached out and put his hand on Peter's forehead but Peter jerked away.

"Dude!" Isaac exclaimed. "You're burning up!"

"I'm fine." Peter said but then coughed. Everyone was staring at him now, even Jessica who was supposed to be disembodied down the hallway.

"Look, I'm not feeling well but we can get me some medicine when we get home." Peter said impatiently. "Let's just get out of here."

They all nodded and Peter felt relieved.

"When the coast is clear we move down to the restrooms. From there we'll wait until we have a clear pass to where they come from when they bring us our food."

"How do you know where that is?" Deepak asked.

"I've been trying for the last week or so to time my potty break for when we get our food. I wanted to know because I figured the people who do the cooking will have a way in and out."

Jessica sighed.

"It'll be clear for a while now."

"Okay, let's go." Peter urged them and they filed silently and orderly out of the door.

Once in the bathroom, they repeated the process of lying low while Jessica scouted out ahead of them. However, this time they encountered difficulties. Jessica couldn't ask Peter for directions while she was in astral form and didn't know exactly where it was he wanted her to check.

Finally, Peter decided he would scout the next leg. He had, of course, secretly been practicing Jessica's ability because it was without question the one he could do with the least amount of subterfuge.

He knew he had to hurry. Hannah was already showing signs of fatigue at maintaining the loop in the security feed of the dorm room. Fortunately, her endurance had increased quite significantly under the merciless tutelage of Mama.

Peter felt the strange absence of feeling as his consciousness left his body in a trance. He flowed with only purpose down the hallway to the kitchen area. He noted that the kitchen seemed to be bustling but the halls would be clear for quite some time and there seemed to be a large freezing compartment before the entrance.

It wouldn't be comfortable, but they could hide in there for a few minutes while they waited for the kitchen to clear.

Peter came back to himself with an almost painful return of sensation. He shuddered.

Jessica smiled. "Freaky, isn't it?"

Peter grinned and nodded but then coughed fitfully.

"We gotta go." He said and led the way into the hall.

They reached the freezer without incident but Hannah was weakening.

"Peter," she called desperately. "I'm gonna lose it."

Peter quickly jumped in and took over the task of feed the looped recorded message to the waiting monitors. It was much more difficult than it had been before he had broken the door lock and projected himself down the hallway. He was quickly exhausting himself.

"Okay, he gasped." His teeth starting to chatter in the cold. "We're gonna have to wait here for a while until the kitchen staff leaves."

"W-w-what if they don't?" Avery asked.

Then there was a burst of blue and Flint was standing with his arms outstretched and on fire.

"I don't have any s'mores or nothing, but I recon this oughta heat things us a bit." The young man smiled.

Everyone smiled as the wonderful warmth spread through the small space.

"Deepak." Peter said, still concentrating on the camera loop. "I want you to reach out with your mind and see what people in the kitchen are thinking. How long are they going to be there and how are they leaving?"

Deepak went still and his head started to lilt to one side in a fashion with which the other children had become very familiar.

Peter felt sweat dripping down his back and willed the boy to be faster.

"Peter." Hannah said softly. "I can take over again."

Peter sighed with relief as he felt her taking control of the mentally taxing process.

He stumbled suddenly and his vision blurred. He closed his eyes and when he opened them he realized Niki was literally holding him up. He blushed. It was embarrassing to be held by a girl smaller than you, even if she was an AP.

"Thanks." He said weakly.

Maya hissed worriedly. "Peter, you're really starting to scare me. You look terrible."

Deepak made a frustrated sound as he straightened his head. "They're going to stick around for at least another half an hour.

"Damn it." Peter cursed.

"Peter!" Tracy seemed shocked by the outburst.

"I mean, darn it." Peter amended. "If only I'd been able to know when they leave for the night."

He thought hard about the situation.

"Okay, I'm going to do something dangerous. If it doesn't work. Just run. Don't stop for the others. Especially you, Daphne."

Everyone protested.

"No, it's the smart thing to do. If even one of us gets away, that person can bring help for the others."

"But Peter," Isaac said, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to use an ability I had before, invisibility. I'm gonna go to the kitchen and make the staff sick."

Maya's eyes grew huge. "No!" She said, shocked. "No, you can't use my ability Peter."

"I'm not going to kill them Maya. I'm just going to make them so sick they fall down and then we'll all get out."

"Then what, Peter?"

"Do they have a car?" He asked Deepak.

"They all come together in a van. It's supposed to be more secure that way."

Peter nodded. "It's not going to be easy, but I can get us all out of here."

He looked around at his friends, his brothers and sisters.

"You believe me, right?"

Slowly they all nodded.

He turned toward the door and Maya grabbed onto his uniform sweat shirt.

"Peter, just be very, very careful."

Peter nodded grimly and fought back and wave of nausea the action had caused. He was so tired.

He heard a gasp as he gathered his invisibility around him and walked out of the freezer.

He let his hand rest on the wall in the hallway, helping him keep his balance as we walked the few feet to the kitchen door.

The staff were inside cleaning pots, pans and grills. He knew he would have to be very careful.

He reached inside of himself and pulled out Maya's power. It felt like corruption, like a fowl mold growing inside of him and filling his eyes, turning the world into a nightmare. He felt the people inside stumbling and falling. He realized with horror that when Maya's ability caused a death she didn't just witness it, she _felt_ it. He could feel the hearts of the people inside faltering and laboring under a sudden crushing weight. Peter pulled back, releasing the ability as though it were a fire brand.

He also allowed himself to let go of invisibility and shuddered in the sudden relief.

He stumbled down the hall to the freezer and called the others out.

Niki and Flint wordlessly grabbed Peter's arms and supported him as they all fled down the hall and through the kitchen.

Then suddenly they were outside. Peter felt the rush of the fresh air and saw the limitless expanse of the night sky and felt like crying. He heard some of the others begin to cry in elation and relief.

"We're not free yet." He gasped. "Get in the van."

They all wordlessly obeyed him.

"Peter." Daphne said when she saw that he wasn't following them inside. "What are you doing?"

Peter grinned but it was grim expression.

"I'm being my very best. Trust me. Put your seat belts on."

Daphne frowned but, trusting Peter, she sat inside and put on her seat belt.

Suddenly the van rocked violently and then was still though the windows were full of blurring movement.

"What's going on?" Niki cried in a terrified voice.

"Oh my good glories." Flint breathed. "We're flying!"

Peter heard the conversation going on inside and would have grinned if his concentration had allowed him even that small respite.

He was working desperately to hang on to two abilities at the same time, Nathan's flight and Niki's strength. Something about the fact that flight was Nathan's ability seemed to give him a second wind. He kept things simple. He only lifted the van as far as was necessary to keep it from hitting the perimeter fence and the trees beyond. He saw city lights in the distance and knew that all he had to do was hold on until he got them there.

He just had to keep pulling, keep flying until he reached the lights that meant police, and public and freedom.

The world around him narrowed to a dark tunnel around the city lights. They grew closer and closer and finally, Peter saw a road. The traffic on it wasn't what you would call heavy at this hour but there were people. Glorious, wonderful, human beings.

Peter lowered the van as carefully as he could onto the road as horns blared and brakes screeched to a halt. He lost his grip on flight or maybe it was the strength in the last few feet and heard his friend yelp and scream at the sudden but short drop.

He lay face first on the top of the van breathing in great pants.

He felt someone touching him, rolling him over but he couldn't open his eyes. Voices called from far away and Peter let them slip. He was so tired. They told him to stay awake but they didn't know how tired he was. He was sure they wouldn't mind if he fell asleep, just for a little bit.


	6. Interview with a Madman

Nathan Petrelli brushed past the police officer at the door irritably.

"Sir?" He protested but Nathan was already through the entry way and closing the door when he heard the detective reassuring the officer that it was alright.

Warren Phillips sat complacently at the metal table, his face void of emotion.

Nathan paced for a moment, trying to compose his raging emotions.

"What did you do to my brother?" He asked quietly.

There was no response.

Nathan's fist came down on the table with a startling bang and Phillips flinched involuntarily.

"What did you do to my brother?" Nathan screamed.

Still no answer.

"Why won't he wake up? Huh? Did you drug him? Did you use some kind of ability on him?"

Phillips smiled and shook his head.

"Oh, you think this is funny? You think kidnapping and torturing children is _funny_?"

Nathan could imagine his hands around the man's throat. His mind blurred through his military training in close combat skills. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing away the image of Peter's impossibly small body covered in tubes and wires.

"You may find this hard to believe, Mr. Petrelli, but I wish your brother no harm."

He heard Phillips say in his throaty voice. Nathan opened his eyes to see the man was regarding him with what appeared to be sympathy.

"He's a remarkable boy. A born leader. Of course, I was hoping that would be the case. Peter comes from a family of leaders, pillars of the AP community. It was a risk and a challenge kidnapping him considering how close to home you kept him but I must say it was worth the trouble." Phillips leaned over the table toward Nathan, as though wanting to express how sincere he was. "You should have seen the way he stood up to me on that first day; the way the other children looked at him…" The man leaned back and sighed. "I was so proud of him."

Nathan actually shook with disbelief.

"You were _proud_ of him?" he sneered. "You were so proud you tortured him. Made him watch while you experimented on his friends."

A dark mask of rage seemed to erupt on the complacent man's features.

"I did _not_ experiment on those children." He fumed. "I would never experiment on them. I was training them."

"Training them?" Nathan yelled. "Training them for what?"

"For what you and all your complacent little friends refuse to face." The man snorted with disgust. "It's only because of people like you I had to go to such extremes in the first place…"

"So, this is my fault." Nathan sneered.

"Yes!" Phillips screamed, fully enraged. "Yes, it is Mr. Petrelli. Because you and the rest of our kind refuse to face up to the fact that we are not human."

Nathan shook his head. "You're insane."

"Oh, I'm insane? You think the humans don't know it? You think all that talk about APs not being covered under human rights law is my imagination?"

"Those are extremists." Nathan said irritably.

"It only takes one incident, whether real or orchestrated for your average person to convert to extremism. People aren't that complicated young man. If you study history you'll see that they are in fact quite predictable and boring. When something goes horribly wrong, as it inevitably does, they look for someone to blame. A minotiry. A group that is outside the whole. What do you think we are? We have presented ourselves as a fearsome outsider. 'Yes,' they all secretly say, 'APs are helping us now but what about tomorrow, or the next day?'"

Nathan couldn't meet the man's gaze.

"You know it, too, don't you? You know you're wrong and that one day they will turn on us."

Nathan shook his head.

"You know what I know?" Nathan said harshly. "I know that your little torture maiden killed herself when we stormed the compound. So, what does that tell you about how she felt about your plans?"

Phillips smiled. "Are you trying to shock me? Is that it? I always knew that Lisa wouldn't be taken alive. She swore to me she'd never be under the control of humans again."

"What are you talking about?" Nathan asked.

"Did you see the body?" Phillips asked. "She had rather an interesting scar on her face but it didn't hold a candle to the ones on the rest of her body. You accused me of experimenting on the children earlier, but you'll note their wounds are extremely superficial. Experimentation generally leaves scars."

Phillips leaned forward with his shackled hands resting on the table.

"You think she was some kind of sadist, don't you? You couldn't be more wrong. Lisa hated those sessions I imagine almost as much as the children did, if not more. But she, unlike you and the other complacent ostriches had the courage to do what needed to be done. She would sit in her quarters and cry for hours after those sessions but she went back every day to make those children strong. You're a military man. Is boot camp fun? Do you think the army or the navy, whatever, you think they put you through that for fun? No. They hurt you to teach you. They push you to train you. They torture you because they know that one day that pain will save your life."

Nathan just stood there. He could think of nothing to say.

"The war is coming, Mr. Petrelli. I only hope that those children learned enough in the little time granted them."

Nathan felt heavy, so heavy he thought he might never fly again.

He walked to the door and knocked softly, not saying another word.

"You think you're one of them but you're not." Phillips said as the door opened but Nathan did not respond. He started to walk out the door and the man screamed.

"You're just a freak to them, Petrelli. That's all they'll ever see! A FREAK!"

The door finally shut behind him and the crazed man's screams were muffled.

Nathan looked up to see that almost all activity on the floor had stopped and all eyes were turned on him. He suddenly felt very young, and insecure and alone.

He started walking toward the elevators, desperate to get away from the staring.

As he repeatedly pressed the down button he heard a voice.

"It's not true, you know."

Nathan turned and saw a young uniformed officer. She smiled shyly.

"I'm sorry?" Nathan asked wearily.

"What that man said. About you being a freak or that being all people see. It's not true."

Nathan smiled. "Thank you, officer...?"

She pulled an errant blond curl back behind her ear and then held out her hand.

"Hanson, Audrey Hanson." She said shaking his hand.

"Nathan Petrelli." Nathan answered.

"Yeah, I know who you are, sir." She smiled briefly then sobered. "I'm really sorry for all you've been through and…I really hope you're brother is going to be okay."

"Yeah, me too. Um, listen, I…" Nathan stumbled to express his feelings. "Just, thanks. I really needed that."

She sighed. "Yeah, I kinda got that feeling."

The elevator arrived. Nathan expected to step in and say good bye but the young woman followed him.

"Are you following me Officer Hanson?"

"Um, I don't think so, sir."

Nathan smiled. "Nathan, please."

"Yes, sir." She winced. "Um, I mean, Yes, Nathan."

There was a pause and then, as the doors opened again, Hanson spoke.

"Um, Nathan, are you going to the hospital by any chance?"

"Yes," Nathan answered with a curious frown, "Yes, I am."

"Well, it's just, I'm going there, too. The other children have been cleared by the medical staff for interviews and I'm supposed to be there facilitating."

"Facilitating?"

"Means, fetching coffee." Audrey shrugged. "I'm a rookie."

Nathan chuckled. "Well, to have an escort, I'd need a car. I was going to catch a cab. I don't suppose?"

Nathan let the question remain unspoken.

Audrey grinned. "You want a ride?"

"Thank you officer Hanson."

"Audrey, please." She gestured toward the exit. "Besides, I don't plan to be Officer Hanson for very long."

"Really?" Nathan asked curious.

"Yeah, I'm trying to work my way through college."

"So, you have your sights set on a career outside law enforcement, do you? Where do you see yourself in five years?"

The girl grinned. "In law enforcement."

Nathan looked confused.

"I want to join the FBI but they require a degree."

Nathan raised his eyebrows.

"Agent Audrey Hanson." He said experimentally. "Has a nice ring to it."


	7. A Father's Eyes

**In this chapter, I'm incorporating events in Nikki1's most recent story but at the same time, redeeming Arthur a bit. What can I say? I want him to be good. If you are unfortunate enough to be reading this story and not have already read her fics, I really encourage you to look them up. She's an amazing writer. Okay, on with the story.**

* * *

The elevator doors opened on the third floor and Nathan watched Officer Hanson exit with a pang of envy. The children whose interviews she was destined to "facilitate"were being housed in the hospital's children's ward for observation. The staff said it was purely a precautionary measure. The children seemed fine. However, they wanted to rule out a delayed reaction that might be similar to Peter's current condition.

Peter.

Nathan heaved a sigh that a few years ago might have been a sob. He closed his eyes and tried to think only of what he could do in this situation. He had gone to see Phillips; the man had been no help. He couldn't help Peter directly. So, he'd stay with his mother and support her. He'd stay close and hope that someone somewhere would give him an opportunity to help.

The elevator arrived on the fifth floor and Nathan exited. As he approached the doors of the ICU waiting room he heard his parents' voices. They seemed to be arguing.

Nathan knew he shouldn't eavesdrop. How many times had his mother told him that when you eavesdrop you hear things you wished you hadn't? But ever since his father had left for Europe without Peter, forcing his Mother to choose between her husband and her son, Nathan had been curious. Peter said their father didn't love him, had never wanted him. Nathan didn't want to believe it was true.

He decided to stay where he was and see if he could find the truth, once and for all.

"Arthur, you can't just leave. Peter is sick."

"I'm not a fool, Angela. I'm well aware of the fact. I'm also well aware that I am not a doctor. There is no point to my staying here. It won't do Peter any good and will do my business a great deal of harm."

"What if he wakes up and wants to see you?"

Nathan heard his Father sigh.

"I doubt that, Angela."

"Oh, Arthur. What happened…that was an unfortunate incident. We've all had time to…to think about what was said or thought. Arthur, Peter loves you. You're his father."

"Am I?"

"Arthur Petrelli, how _dare_ you insinuate…"

Nathan had gasped at the question but his Father quickly interrupted.

"I didn't mean to insinuate anything against you, Angela. I was insinuating something against me. I haven't been a father to that boy and you know it. He knows it. Even Nathan knows it."

There was a long pause. Nathan barely dared to breathe.

"Arthur, it's not too late, you know. Peter misses you. Nathan misses you."

"And you, Angela?"

"I miss you, too."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Will you stay?"

"I can't…I won't be able to help, Angela."

"Your being here will help me, Arthur."

"Alright then." There was relief in his father's voice. "I'll need to make a call, but…I'll come back."

Nathan suddenly realized his Father must be heading for the doors he was loitering behind. He back tracked a few dozen feet quickly and then began to stroll toward the door. He hoped his look of surprise upon seeing his Father exit appeared genuine.

"Pop." Nathan exclaimed. "Where you going?"

"I have to make a call, business. You understand."

Arthur reached out and put a hand on Nathan's shoulder.

"You're coming back though, aren't you?" Nathan asked, suddenly not sure of the answer despite what he'd just overheard.

His father looked pained. "What kind of father have I been to warrant that question? Because it is, you know; warranted. I was almost ready to leave. I didn't see the point of staying."

"I don't know, Pop. I…" Nathan hated the way he felt. He was a grown man. He was a leader. Yet faced with his brother's helpless situation, all these impossible questions; he felt like a child.

"Pop, you love Peter, right?" Nathan barely believed he'd asked the question.

Arthur winced as though he'd been punched and then sighed sadly; a sigh that reminded Nathan of the one he'd so recently heaved in the privacy of the elevator.

"Yes, Nathan. I love Peter." Arthur gestured to two plastic chairs bolted to the hallway wall. "Do you mind?"

Nathan shook his head and took a seat next to his Father.

"This is hard to explain. It took me some time to work it out. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, your Mother's and my recent separation has given me a lot of time on my own."

Nathan watched as Arthur drew a hand over his tired, ashen features.

"The reason there has always been friction between Peter and myself I think is, well, Peter is so much like I used to be."

Nathan's eyebrows rose expressing his shock. For his money, Nathan couldn't think of any two people more different that his father and his brother.

"You're surprised. I can see why you would be. Notice I said 'used to be'." Arthur sighed. "I used to think that people were trustworthy, basically good. I walked around with rose colored glasses and because of that, because of me, countless people were hurt. I wanted to do what was right but I trusted the wrong people, supported the wrong causes. If I'd only learned sooner that this world is not for the weak and gullible…"

Arthur's voice trailed off.

"I see that in Peter. I see how powerful he is becoming and, for the longest time, you know what I saw?"

Nathan shook his head solemnly.

"I saw a tool. I remembered the devastation that others caused through me and I shuddered at what might become of Peter if he remained so vulnerable to manipulation. I admit it. I often wished that Angela had…had ended the pregnancy. I looked at Peter and all I saw were my faults, my mistakes, my weakness."

Nathan saw tears appear in his father's eyes and turned away, blushing uncomfortably. There was something terrible about watching his father cry.

"The truth is, Peter is in that room because of me."

Nathan's gaze jerked back to his father.

"Pop, no!" He protested. "Even if you had been here, you couldn't have prevented this."

Arthur only sighed.

"No, Nathan. The man that took Peter. I…He…The only reason Phillips had the power and resources to kidnap those children is because I blindly followed him as a young man. Don't you see? I pushed Peter so hard because I didn't want him to repeat my mistakes. I judged him when I should have been judging myself and…and in the end…it's my mistakes…my fault. My son is going to die and it's my fault. He'll die not knowing that I truly do love him. I do, Nathan. I do."

Nathan reached out and held his father, who had dissolved into tears. He pulled his father in close as he sobbed and only then saw his mother. She was standing outside the ICU doors in tears but smiling. Her expression was sorrowful and pained and yet there was a measure of joy and relief in her eyes.

She stepped forward and placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"He will wake up, Arthur." She said firmly. "He will."

Arthur looked up and smiled through his tears.

"You see that strength son?" He said. "That's where you get it, from your mother. She's so strong, stronger than I'll ever be."

Nathan smiled and realized that he was crying, too.

"I think Peter has it too, Pop."

His father turned to him and Nathan looked directly into his eyes as he said, "He's strong. He led those kids out of that complex and back home. He'll find his way home to us."

His father nodded, unable to speak and Angela knelt on the ground before them, allowing them all to share a mutual embrace. It lasted for a long moment and when it ended their eyes were filled with hope and not tears.

Arthur cleared his throat. "I still need to make that call. I'll be back soon."

As Nathan turned to watch his father go he saw a very uncomfortable Officer Hanson standing near the elevator, looking anywhere and everywhere but at the Petrellis.

"Officer Hanson." Nathan said, surprised. "I mean, Audrey. What are you doing here? You can't possibly have been sent here to try to interview Peter."

The young woman stepped forward hesitantly.

"Um, no, of course not." She turned to Angela. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Petrelli, about Peter, I mean. Is he any better?"

Angela smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm afraid not, dear. Thank you for your concern. I really should get back to the waiting room in case there is a change. If you will excuse me."

And with those words she turned on her heel and walked briskly away.

"Did I offend her? She seemed angry." Officer Hanson said worriedly.

Nathan smiled. "No. My mother just isn't very comfortable with public displays of emotion. What can I do for you, Off-…Audrey?"

"Um, we're kind of having a problem talking to the children." She said, and bit her lip.

"What kind of problem?" Nathan asked.

"Well, we're the only ones talking." She shrugged. "They won't talk to us, at all."

Nathan frowned. "That's a bit strange. I don't see what I can do to help though."

"My superiors were kind of hoping that you would take a whack at it. They're thinking the kids have been through a traumatic experience, they're not feeling very trusting but maybe they'd open up to one of their own kind."

Nathan's face hardened and Audrey looked down muttering, "Their words, not mine."

Nathan sighed but said nothing and Audrey bit her lip again.

"So, I'm guessing you want me to tell them to go to hell, right?"

Nathan said nothing.

"Or you're wanting to tell me to go to hell. I get it. You've got enough on your plate. Sorry to have added to it." As she said this she started to back away but Nathan stopped her.

"I'm sorry, it's not your fault. And, frankly, I'd give anything to be useful right now."

He smiled and looked relieved.

"Wait here. I'll explain the situation to my mother and then we can head down."

* * *

Nathan followed Audrey as she walked down the hall. The children's section was separated into twelve bed wards and the children from the abduction were occupying one of them.

Nathan tried not to think of the empty bed.

Audrey walked up to a man wearing a badge but not a uniform and began making introductions.

"Detective Hales, this is Nathan Petrelli. Mr. Petrelli, this is detective Hales. I've let Mr. Petrelli know about our difficulty and he's agreed to help."

Nathan held out his hand and was painfully aware of the brief hesitation on the detective's part.

"Um, thanks for coming down, sir. We appreciate you cooperating with us."

Nathan rankled at the terminology and the hesitation and seriously considered walking away without another word. But he took a deep breath and said, "Anything I can do to help, Officer."

The man frowned and Nathan resisted the urge to grin.

"It's detective." Hales said shortly.

"My mistake." Nathan said and smiled.

"Yeah, uh, yeah." The man looked toward the play area. "We tried to talk to 'em separately and in groups." He shrugged. "Nobody's talking."

Nathan said, "Maybe they're afraid. I mean, it's natural after what they've been through, right?"

"Well, yeah, we thought maybe they'd talk to you. I mean, you're an AP, they're APs." The man shrugged again.

Nathan was beginning to find the gesture annoying.

"You do know that APs don't all know each other, right? We don't have secret handshakes or take blood oaths either."

Hales held up a hand. "I don't mean no offense or disrespect."

Nathan held back a snort.

"So, what? It can't hurt to try, can it?"

Nathan sighed and said, "I'll see what I can do."

Hales smiled. "There you go. They're all in the play area. They're sort of acting like they're joined at the hip right now. Very protective of each other."

Nathan only nodded and headed in the direction indicated.

He found the play area easily enough and the children seemed to be waiting for him.

"Hello, kids. My name's Nathan. I'm Peter's brother." He said in greeting.

_Make her go away._

Nathan heard the voice but couldn't see who was talking.

"I'm sorry, who said that?" Nathan asked.

_I didn't say it. I'm projecting the thought into your head. Make the lady cop go away so we can talk._

Nathan stared for a moment and then turned to Audrey, who had followed him over.

"Um, Audrey, I think it might take a while for us all to warm up to each other and I'm sure the kids are hungry or thirsty or something. Could you maybe arrange for them to get some food?"

Audrey cast a shrewd glance at the children and then at Nathan.

She smiled, "If you want me to go away, you can just say so."

Nathan looked down awkwardly, "I didn't want to hurt your feelings or offend you."

"No offense taken." She said easily and walked away.

"Okay," Nathan said then. "Who was that just now in my head?"

"Me." A dark boy with curly black hair said and held up his hand.

Nathan smiled, "Is your name, me?"

That got several smiles.

"No, it's Deepak."

Soon, they had gone around the room and the introductions were behind them.

Daphne was the last to go and, after giving him her name, said,

"You're old, like really old, like _adult_ old." She said the word adult as though it were a disease that might be catching then crossed her skinny arms.

"What's up with that?"

Nathan couldn't help but grin. "Um, well, I'm just older, I guess. I'm actually 12 years older than Peter."

"You're 24!" The girl said with wide eyes. "OMG, that's ancient!"

Nathan laughed out loud which seemed to offend her.

"It doesn't matter how old he is, Daph." George said then. "We needed to know what to say and we knew we could trust you."

"What do you mean?" Nathan frowned.

"About Peter." Maya said then, in her hushed little voice. "About his ability. It's how we escaped."

"Yeah," Flint drawled. "We'd uh never gotten loose if it hadna been for Peter but we uh, we don't think nobody should know."

Isaac nodded. "It's like me and my ability. My parents don't want people to know what I can do because they'll take advantage of me. Peter said no one knew what he could do, that you kept it a secret."

"Yes, exactly." Deepak said then. "We aren't sure how to explain the escape because we don't want anyone to know Peter's secret."

Nathan took a breath. "So, Peter did lead the escape?"

Jessica sighed. "Peter practically did everything himself."

Niki protested, "That's not true, Jessica. You helped and so did Hannah and Deepak and Flint and.."

"Okay, Niki, we get the point." Tracy said testily. "Jessica's just saying that it was Peter's plan."

"Well, yeah, and if Peter hadn't corroded the chains or the lock or been able to turn invisible like that or fly or, you know, all that stuff, we'd never have gotten free." Niki conceded. "I'm just saying he didn't do it ALL."

Nathan held up his hands then. "Okay, this sounds like a long story. Why don't you fill me in?"

Nathan sat with an ever increasing feeling of awed respect and pride toward his little brother. Peter's plan had been well thought out and perfectly executed. He shook his head when the story was done.

_Good job, Pete._ He thought silently and suddenly found himself fighting back tears.

He cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Alright." Nathan said carefully. "Is there anyway anyone outside of this little room knows what really happened?"

The children all shook their heads no.

"Not even Phillips?"

Nathan watched the children flinch away from the name and regretted having brought the man up but the children recovered and again, shook their heads no.

"What about security cameras?"

Daphne sighed loudly, "Are you paying attention? No. No. NO. There aren't any little green men who know about it either. Are we done?"

"Daphne." Jessica and Deepak said reprovingly and in unison.

"I'm sorry but adults piss me off." She subsided but Nathan thought he heard her grumble something about "never trust you…always asking stupid questions…"

"Sorry." Nathan said to her sincerely. "I just wanted to make absolutely sure."

Daphne didn't say anything but her eyes softened and she nodded.

"This is what I think we should do." Nathan said. "Now, you said they drugged your food at night?"

The children nodded.

"Well, we'll say you don't remember and blame it on the drugs. If it turns out memory loss isn't a known side effect of the drugs which, given your perfect recollections of events, is likely, we'll say it must be an AP thing. Non-APs are always using our AP status against us." Nathan shrugged. "In this situation we'll use it against them."

Everyone in the room seemed to unwind a little in relief.

"I'll go out there and talk to the detectives and tell them what we agreed and then if they ask you anything about the night you escaped, from the point of the exercise with the mouse, you remember nothing. They'll probably think its trauma related or something."

At this point Maya shyly raised her hand.

Nathan smiled. "You don't have to raise your hand, Maya."

The girl blushed and dropped it. "Sorry, it's just…in there. He would punish us for speaking out of turn."

Nathan's face grew hard and most of the children seemed to tense. He fought back the anger this sudden reminder of what the children, what his brother had been through had incited.

"I'm sorry, Maya." He said softly. "For a minute there, I forgot. What did you want to ask?"

Tears appeared in the girls eyes. "Is Peter going to be okay?" She asked shakily.

Nathan tried to look sincere. "Of course he is. He's just tired, I think. He'll wake up soon."

Maya hesitated but then said, "Do you think…um…maybe…" and she choked on the words. She started crying in earnest then but seemed determined to the get the question out. "…it…was because…he used…my ability?"

The children had rushed to her side and were hugging, petting and comforting her as best they could. Nathan felt awed by the solidarity and caring he saw there.

He moved forward to kneel before the small girl. He offered her his arms and she all but ran into them, sobbing into his shoulder.

Nathan spent a long time hushing her and petting her hair as he had done countless times with a heartbroken Claire. When she had calmed a bit he pulled her to almost arm's length and looked into her eyes, willing her to feel his sincerity.

"Maya, Peter's condition has nothing to do with you or your ability. You believe me?"

The girl nodded, wordlessly and Nathan smiled.

"Good girl." He said and tapped her nose gently, which made her smile.

Then he looked at the others.

"That goes for all of you. What happened to you and what happened to Peter was not your fault. It wasn't Peter's fault or your parents' fault. It was the fault of the people who did this to you, no one else. Okay?"

The children seemed to consider this and then one by one, they nodded their heads.

"Good. I'm going to go talk to those detectives and see if I can get them to leave you alone."

Nathan turned to leave.

"Nathan."

Nathan turned back to Avery.

"You'll let us know, right? You'll let us know when Peter wakes up?"

Nathan smiled at the assured 'when' in the question.

"Yes, Avery. I promise."


	8. Than Fly To Those We Know Not Of

**This is the last chapter. I am so very, very, very glad that Nikki1 said she liked this foray into her universe. I hope she and all of you like the ending. I can't think of a single author I've ever met who didn't like reviews, and I am no exception. I appreciate all the reviews I've received and hope that you won't mind taking the time to let me know what you thought of the ending. **

**Bonus of this story? I finally get to tell someone who might actually care my theory as to how Peter's ability works! Hee,hee.**

**(This chapter now incorporates an edit that was the result of a review by by7the7sea.)**

* * *

Angela Petrelli sat in the small room made of plastic and glass and watched her boys sleep.

When a week had passed and Peter had shown no improvement, she and Arthur had started taking turns sitting by his bed. As the doctors' prognosis grew more and more grim Angela grew more and more determined that if Peter were going to die, he would do so with one of his parents by his side.

She glanced over to Nathan, his long lanky frame stretched uncomfortably over the reclining chair. Nathan had no sibling to relieve him and probably wouldn't have accepted the relief in any case. He had been forced to return to work, in body at least if not in mind, but returned to the hospital every night after a quick bite, shower and change of wardrobe.

He would hold his brothers cold hands and talk to his mother or father or to Peter until he fell asleep in that same chair. Angela sighed and secretly wondered how she managed to have been blessed with such exemplary children.

Peter stirred restlessly and Angela reached out to offer what comfort she could.

The doctors called it persistent idiopathic fever. Though he wouldn't wake, they insisted he was not comatose. In fact, his brain was abnormally alive with activity. Dr. Suresh, the only doctor Angela and Arthur trusted with Peter's secret ability, speculated that the absorption and use had caused an overload of sorts.

* * *

"It's very hard to say." Suresh said pensively.

"Peter's brain works in a way that is unique to any other I have encountered. As far as we have been able to determine, when Peter absorbs an ability, his brain registers it here," He said pointing to the brain scan. "A portion of the limbic system called the hippocampus."

The doctor had then smiled reflectively, "Incidentally, the limbic system is the emotional system of the brain but is also responsible for transferring memory. That is why we tend to remember things that had an emotional impact upon us. It is significant that Peter is such an emotional and empathic person. I believe this is tied to his ability somehow. His limbic system or hippocampus registers the emotional memory of others in a way that allows him to duplicate their own unique brain activity."

Angela sighed and scowled at the doctor who blushed, suddenly flustered.

"Ahem, my point being, that I believe Peter's training with Mr. Raines has basically allowed him to prevent that transference within the hippocampus to progress to here."

Now the doctor pointed to an area that was brightly lit on the scan.

"This is the parietal lobe. This is the part of the brain that integrates sensory perception from different modalities, basically the other areas of the brain. In Peter, I believe that this is the step in which imprinted abilities become applicable abilities. In other words, I believe that once the imprint of another APs ability progresses from the hippocampus to the parietal lobe, Peter can then duplicate that process. Basically, rewire his brain to perform in a manner similar to the other AP's."

Dr. Suresh removed his glasses and turned off the scan image.

"Unfortunately, the situation in which Peter now finds himself may be the direct consequence of his training."

The Petrelli family members all registered a measure of shock at this revelation but it was Nathan who spoke first.

"What do you mean? How could Peter's training have made him sick?"

"It wasn't the training so much as the measure of control it gave him. Peter has steadfastly developed the ability to block the absorption of AP abilities but that also means he has developed the ability to choose when and where he absorbs them."

The doctor shrugged, sighing sadly.

"In this case, Peter decided to absorb several abilities almost simultaneously. This is what is causing the overload in his parietal lobe. It's basically as though his brain were trying to rewire itself half a dozen different ways all at the same time. His body is reacting to this as though he were suffering from an infection of the brain. It is trying to kill the foreign body infecting his brain with a fever. Unfortunately, this is putting a great deal of strain on Peter's heart."

"Can't you stop it?" Nathan asked.

Dr. Suresh looked away from the expectant Petrelli family to Peter's sleeping, yet restless form and said, "No, there is nothing we can do but wait."

"Wait for what, doctor?" Arthur Petrelli asked.

"For Peter's brain to complete its adjustments."

Angela sighed, suddenly relieved. "Then it's just a matter of time."

But Dr. Suresh said nothing and would not meet her eye.

"Chandra? What is it?" Angela asked and grew impatient when he did not answer.

"Tell me." She demanded.

"Angela, there is just so much a heart can take, even one so strong as Peter's. If he does not regain consciousness soon, I'm afraid his heart will not be able to cope with the strain. I'm very sorry, but now it is a question of what will outlast what. If his brain outlasts his heart, he will die."

A long silence greeted this news as the Petrelli's dealt with the fact that their youngest family member lay in danger of a fatal heart attack.

"How long?" Nathan asked at last, his voice hoarse with unexpressed emotion.

"At worst? Two more days. At best? Another week." Suresh said simply, trying to make the blow as swift as possible.

Angela stumbled back to Peter's side and grasped his hand, trying desperately not to weep.

"I am very sorry." Suresh said and left the family to their grief.

* * *

Angela shuddered at the memory. That conversation had taken place three days ago, yet Peter was still here. He was still holding on.

Angela saw an almost infinitesimal movement out of the corner of her eye and sighed.

"You can come out, young man. I am well aware of the fact you are hiding in the closet. Come out and let me have a look at you." She said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

There was a significant pause, but then the closet door opened and a somewhat haggard twelve year old boy stepped out hesitantly.

"You're the one that went missing, Flint, yes?" Angela said, looking the boy up and down.

"Yes'm." He mumbled softly.

Angela sighed. "Young man, if there is one thing in this world I absolutely refuse to tolerate it is mumbling. If you've something important enough to say, it is important enough to warrant elucidation."

Flint frowned thoughtfully then replied. "Peter's my friend. I wanted to know he was okay before…" He let the sentence trail.

"I could feign ignorance as to what your next course of action will be but I chose not to do so. You plan to run away. You are an orphan whose older sister abandoned you."

Flints eyes grew wide as the somewhat frightening woman that was Peter's Mom listed off the facts of his life as though they were items on a grocery list.

"You have been in the foster care system for seven years and have had 13 different placements. Your social worker has indicated your AP status and ability are the prime reason stated for dissolution of these placements. At the time of your abduction you were being housed in a temporary children's shelter."

She now looked directly into Flint's eyes.

"A shelter designed for 4 to 6 week placements but you had been housed there for almost six months. Nine days before your abduction, the proprietors of the shelter shaved your head and stated the reason for this was they suspected you had contracted head lice."

Flint blushed at that but stuck his jaw out obstinately.

"I somehow doubt you are eager to return to such a situation and therefore conclude your plan is to run away. Most likely, to attempt to find and be reunited with your sister."

Angela spread her hands.

"Am I correct?"

Flint stared for a moment then asked, "Do you read minds, Ma'am? Like Deepak?"

Angela smiled. "No dear. I read files. More specifically, I read your file. I found it very interesting that my granddaughter's uncle happened to be among those abducted."

Flint frowned. "You mean, Peter?" He asked confused.

"No, young man, I mean you. Your sister Meredith is the mother of my son Nathan's daughter Claire."

Flint just stared.

"You, like Peter, are Claire's Uncle."

"My…" Flint stopped and took a sudden breath. "My sister had a baby?"

"Well, yes, but I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't refer to Claire as a baby in her presence. It sets her back up and then there is no reasoning with her. Such a stubborn child." Angela sighed.

Flint shook his head as though to clear it from a fog and then sat down in the only empty chair in the room.

"This is plum crazy, Ma'am."

"Yes, I imagine it would seem strange to go so long without family and then to inherit such a strange one."

Flint's head shot up. "Family?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, young man, family. Whether you like it or not, you and I and Peter, etc. are all connected." She paused and then said in a very measured and casual voice. "You will understand that I cannot have a connection of mine running around the country. At the same time," and here Angela's voice grew sharp, "neither can I have a connection of mine be sent back to the tender mercies of the Texas Foster Care system."

"Ma'am, are you saying…are you asking me to come live with you and Peter?"

Angela had been distracted by this rehearsed exchange she had prepared to help Flint be comfortable with the idea of moving in with the Petrellis. His assumption regarding Peter though had shattered the illusion she had so temporarily built around his fragile condition.

She pressed her lips together and fought the urge to cry. After a deep breath she managed to smile again.

"Yes, Flint. I am asking you to come and live in my house with my family. Is that acceptable to you?"

Flint smiled. "Yes, _Ma'am!_" He said enthusiastically.

"Good. I'm glad that's settled." Angela said and turned back to her chair. "You may come and sit down. I've ordered you some breakfast so you won't need to sneak down the hall and pilfer the pudding and fruit juice supply."

"Yes, Ma'am." Was all Flint dared reply.

* * *

Nathan sat a lonely vigil. His father had fallen asleep in his chair. Heidi was in the building, she had brought Claire. But his little girl had grown restless and Heidi had decided to take her for a walk in the garden area.

Nathan glanced over at Peter's flushed face and watched as his brother's eyes danced behind his lids. For not the first time, Nathan wondered what Peter was thinking or seeing on the other side, if he could hear his big brother calling to him to wake up.

According to Dr. Suresh, Peter had a week at best. That pronouncement had been made five days ago. Nathan struggled with his fear and frustration. He couldn't _do _anything. His brother, his little brother was going to die and he was going to have to sit there and watch every minute of it.

Listen to every breath and every beep of the heart monitor as though they were ticks of a clock that was steadily counting down. Nathan shook his head, trying to dislodge the morbid turn of his thoughts.

Peter wasn't dead yet. As long as he was alive, there was hope.

Nathan leaned forward, amazed that after the last few weeks he could still cry.

"Come on, Pete." He whispered. "You've had your fun, now get up already."

To his surprise, Peter jerked violently in his bed.

"Pop." Nathan said loudly and heard his father snort, suddenly awake.

"Nathan?" He said in a sleepy confused voice.

"Pop, something's going on!" Nathan said as Peter jerked again.

Arthur was suddenly alert. He stood.

"Is he waking up?" He asked, his voice infused with a hope he barely dared.

"I don't know." Nathan said honestly. "He's started jerking and his heart monitor's going crazy."

Arthur's face drained of color and expression.

Their eyes met.

"You don't think…" Nathan didn't finish the question.

He was interrupted by Peter's scream.

"Nathan!" Peter screamed, his eyes still closed. "Nathan! I can't hold it! I'm falling!"

Nathan reached out and grabbed his brother's hand yelling back, "I'm here, Pete. I've got you. I've got you, Peter. I won't let you fall."

Peter's body convulsed violently and Nathan found himself sobbing.

"Peter! Pete!" He cried. "Pete, I'm here. Don't go, Pete! Stay here with me!"

Peter relaxed suddenly and was still. Too still. Nathan heard the constant blare of the monitor. He heard his father's anguished voice whisper, "No."

He couldn't see through the tears but gripped Peter's tiny hand.

"Peter!" He screamed.

Then suddenly he heard a gasped intake of breath and the monitor skipped and started beeping steadily again.

He wiped at his face to clear his eyes of tears and when he did saw his brother's eyes open and staring.

"Nathan?" Peter asked softly.

"Yeah," Nathan laughed almost hysterical with relief. "Yeah, Pete. It's me."

Peter sighed and closed his eyes. "I was falling, I think. Yeah, I think I was falling. Did you catch me, Nathan?"

Nathan felt the tears spill unabashedly down his cheeks and reached out to place his hand on his brother's damp head.

"I'll always catch you, Peter. Always."

Peter opened his still feverish eyes and stared at his brother.

"I knew that."


End file.
